P&F Industries 3: Night on the Riviera
by EDD17SP
Summary: Candace and the new guy, Steve, come up with a plan to restore Phineas and Isabella's friendship. Buford and Steve finish the Buick Riviera and find an unexpected buyer. Picks up where "El Camino de calle traviesa" left off.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb or any of the songs used. Do not attempt any of the driving described here at home. There is no guarantee it will work the way I wrote it and you'll probably get arrested.**

**If you have not read "P&F Industries #1: The Mustang," or "#2: El Camino de calle traviesa," this story will make no sense.**

Chapter 1

"Why the heck is the voltage fluctuating like this?"

Steve was holding a voltage meter against a wire leading from the alternator, puzzled at why the voltage was not consistent.

"Can't help ya," Buford said. "Electrical wiring is not my strong suit."

"Me neither," Steve returned. "I can wire something simple like a headlight, but this is the first time I've ever had to completely rewire an entire electrical system."

Steve looked at the digital display on the volt meter as the number rapidly changed from 9 to 5 to 7.5 to 3 to 0 to 11 to 4 to…

He removed the volt meter. Watching the numbers spin wasn't getting them anywhere.

"Did we wire it backwards or something?" Buford asked, scratching his head.

"I don't know," Steve said, lifting off his black Ford Racing cap by the brim to wipe sweat from his brow. Aside from the color, it was exactly the same as the white one he usually wore, but he always wore the black one while working to avoid dirtying the white one. "Hand me the wiring diagram that came with the alternator, would ya?"

As Buford handed Steve the large piece of paper, a car could be heard pulling up outside the shop. Both men turned and looked through the open garage door and saw Candace's blue Neblington Nymph roll up the drive and park.

"Remember when I said I felt a disturbance in the Force yesterday?" Steve asked Buford.

"Yeah. What was that about anyway?"

"I'm not a Jedi, if that's what you're asking. Just a bad feeling I had. And I think," he said, as they watched Candace climb from her car, "this is it."

Candace walked toward them looking rather angry.

"Steve!" she yelled.

"Uh-oh."

"Dude," Buford said. "You are in trouble."

"This is all your fault!"

"What is?"

Candace finally stopped advancing when she was practically touching Steve, who leaned backwards to separate himself from the angry woman before him. "You!" she yelled. "You destroyed Phineas and Isabella's friendship!"

Steve's face contorted in confusion. He didn't respond for several moments. Finally he said, "W…what?"

"Phineas and Isabella aren't friends anymore and its all your fault!"

Steve finally took a step backward so he could actually stand up straight. "Okay…Candace, I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about. Please," he said, motioning for her to sit on the upside-down bucket that had become their step stool in the shop, "elaborate. And calm down, you're gonna rupture my ear drum."

Candace groaned, but then took a deep breath and sat down on the bucket. Buford, meanwhile, continued working on the Buick Riviera, which was still perched on the car lift.

"Okay," Candace said, still with an angry tone but at a much softer decibel, "Phineas and Isabella had a fight after you guys left the other night. Well, maybe it wasn't really a fight, they weren't yelling at each other. I guess it wasn't really a disagreement, either. Hmm. I guess they had a falling out, you could call it."

"Okay…?" Steve said slowly.

Candace began to spell out the entire story, still in a very rushed and angry tone. Finally, after explaining the whole situation, Steve was still completely lost.

"So…how exactly is that my fault?" he asked skeptically.

"Because," Candace barked, "If you hadn't painted your car so…uniquely-" She pointed to the black-and-yellow Ford Mustang sitting just outside the next garage bay, away from dust and debris. "-then Phineas wouldn't have wanted to talk to you. You wouldn't have taken the kids for a ride. You wouldn't have wanted to jump the creek. Isabella wouldn't have had a reason to be upset with Phineas for trusting you, they wouldn't have started arguing, and Isabella wouldn't have accidentally told Phineas she loves him!"

Steve looked more confused than ever. "Wait a sec, let me see if I have this right. You are blaming me…for breaking up Phineas and Isabella…because I painted my car…uniquely?"

"Yes," Candace said matter-of-factly.

Steve stared at her. "Candace?"

"What?"

"Do you have a few screws loose? 'Cause I got all kind of different tools for tightening stuff up here." Buford tried to suppress a giggle.

"What?" Candace seethed through clenched teeth.

"You can't blame me for the way I painted my car. It could be your fault, too," he said calmly, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"How could this possibly be _my _fault?" Candace gasped.

"You didn't _have_ to go to that car show. And you certainly didn't have to take Isabella with you."

"I was definitely going to that car show, and why wouldn't I have taken the kids?"

"Okay, well then maybe it's Phineas and Ferb's fault for restoring your car. Otherwise, you wouldn't have had a reason to go to the car show," Steve said. "If I remember the entire story Phineas told me correctly, maybe its your dad's fault for buying you the Nymph. Maybe it's your grandfather's fault for buying your dad the same car when your dad was a teenager." Steve's expression grew more and more angry and his tone got louder. "Maybe it's just your parent's fault for giving birth to Phineas and Ferb…separately of course. Heck, if your parents hadn't gotten married after having you and your brothers, maybe Phineas wouldn't have ever met Isabella."

Candace was slightly taken aback. She hadn't considered all that. "Its still your fault!" she yelled, simply because she could not think of anything else to say.

"Well then, why don't we just blame my Uncle Boyd for opening this garage here in Danville twenty-five years ago? Why don't we blame my parents for going to dinner on Valentine's Day when they got _killed_? Why don't we blame the owner of the restaurant they went to that night for opening where they did instead of across town? Then they wouldn't have gone the route they did and wouldn't have been in the path of an idiot who didn't know how to obey traffic signals. Infact, why don't we just blame my parents for giving birth to me? Huh? Still think its my fault that Phineas and Isabella had a falling out?" Steve was looking quite red in the face and behind his dark sunglasses his eyes were narrowed at Candace.

Candace was completely shocked. She had not considered any of that. "Okay, maybe its equally out faults."

Steve's angry expression disappeared in almost an instant and he laughed. His anger had just been an act. "No, you're right, its my fault for wanting to jump the creek. I almost didn't notice the "Bridge Out" sign that evening. If I hadn't seen it, we would have gone back to the car show and Isabella wouldn't have let her secret slip."

Candace stared at him. "So I was right!" she said. "I knew it!"

"Yes, yes you did," Steve said sarcastically. "Look, how about we stop worrying about who's fault it is and figure out how to fix their friendship?"

"Agreed," Candace said, and they shook on it.

"Uh, not to interrupt anything," Buford called, "But should these wires be smoking like this?"

* * *

Perry listened to the conversation intently from the passenger seat of Candace's Neblington Nymph. It had been a while since he had seen Candace that actively angry. His head still ached from crashing into Isabella's tree yesterday and he was seriously considering giving Major Monogram his resignation from the agency. Then again, being a secret agent was his life, and he supposed that even if he wanted to give it up, he would probably be an O.W.C.A. operative until the day he keeled over.

He poked his head up above the door when he heard panicked yelling. There was smoke streaming out from under the firewall of the '71 Riviera and Steve was trying to disconnect the power before the electrical system fried, or worse, caught fire.

He ducked back down as he heard his watch beep.

"Good Morning, Agent P," Carl said as his face appeared on the little screen. "I'll bet your wondering where Major Monogram is." This was true. Perry nodded. "Well, Major Monogram got into a car accident with Doofenshmirtz yesterday. I know, ironic, huh? Anyway, Doofenshmirtz somehow blew up the Major's Cadillac and the explosion put them both in the hospital." Perry's eyes widened. He was concerned for his friends' safety. "Don't worry, they weren't badly injured. Doofenshmirtz hasn't actually been released from the hospital yet, so no mission for you for the second consecutive day. Major Monogram is shopping around for a new car, so I don't expect to see him today." Perry figured that sounded about right. When Monogram set out to do something, he would not stop until it had been accomplished. He saluted Carl. "See you tomorrow, Agent P."

Perry looked over the door into the shop again. There was still smoke hanging in the air, but the power had been cut and the ignition system was no longer smoking. Aside from the obvious bugs in the wiring, it looked to Perry like Steve and Buford were doing a really nice job.

The platypus suddenly had an idea. He jumped out of the car and walked behind a tree on all fours. Once hidden, he pulled out his fedora and put it on, heading for the O.W.C.A. headquarters, which was a closer walk than home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

With the "Riv" in the paint shop behind "Boyd's Garage", work had come to a halt while the fresh paint dried. The shop was restored to its former immaculately clean self, and that made it the perfect time to have visitors. Ferb, Buford, Baljeet, Irving and Jeremy stood in a semi-circle, their attention focused on Candace and Steve, who stood side-by-side before them.

"I suppose you're all wondering why we called you here this early afternoon," Candace said dramatically.

"Not really," said Buford, unimpressed. "I know why we're here."

"Okay, besides Buford, I'm sure you're all wondering why you are here."

Ferb, Baljeet, Irving and Jeremy nodded.

"For those of you who are unaware, Phineas and Isabella had a falling out." Baljeet, Irving and Jeremy gasped. Ferb and Buford already knew, so they did not react.

"How could this have happened?" Baljeet asked.

"That would be mostly my fault," Steve said as he raised his hand, and then recounted the events of sixteen days ago. Candace looked bored. She was getting tired of hearing this story over and over again.

When Steve was done, Irving asked, "So why are we here?"

"Because," Candace said, a determined smile crossing her face, "we have a plan to get them back together!"

"A plan with a simple objective that will be very complicated to pull off," Steve added, "and we need your help."

Candace gave Steve a look that read "Really?" before continuing. "Now here's what we're gonna do…"

* * *

Phineas leaned back in his computer chair and folded his hands behind his head. He had thought of nothing but Isabella for a day and half. He had tried to take his mind off of her by playing solitaire on his computer, but he just couldn't concentrate on the cards.

_Could there be something there?_ he thought, thinking of his relationship with Isabella. _Could we possibly be more than friends. I know I like her, and I like being with her, but…it just seems weird. We've been friends for so long…changing our relationship that much…what if we just aren't right for each other? I don't want to risk losing her as a friend. _

But…could there be something there?

* * *

The walky-talky crackled in Ferb's hand. _"Everybody in position?"_ Steve's voice asked.

_"Roger!"_ Candace's voice responded.

Ferb held down the button to talk, but Buford was the one who spoke. "We're ready!"

_"I have a question."_ This time, Baljeet's voice slipped through the static.

_"What?"_ Steve asked.

_"Why are not you helping us?"_

_"Because,"_ Steve said with an edge of sarcasm in his tone,_ "I have a 1971 Buick Riviera that is in need of a clear-coating. Besides, Irving an I are setting up here at the shop."_

_"Oh-"_ Baljeet started to say until Candace grabbed the little radio from his hand. "Give me that! From now on, I only I use the walky-talky!" she snapped. "Now just stay quiet and wait for the signal."

Across the street in the Flynn-Fetcher's garage, Ferb checked his watch. It was 2:44pm, one minute from target time. "Here we go," he said to Buford.

They exited the garage and made their way to the living room, heading up the stairs as quietly as they could. Buford held a large, empty potato sack in his hands, holding the opening stretched wide. Ferb had a six-foot length of rope.

They reached the top of the stairs and stood on either side of the closed bathroom door. Phineas went to the bathroom everyday at 2:45. Ferb glanced at his watch again. It read 2:46. He could hear the sink faucet running, letting Ferb know that Phineas was washing his hands.

_Almost…_ he thought. Buford raised the open sack high.

The door opened. Phineas took one step past the threshold and gasped "Wha-?" as Buford pulled the sack down over Phineas's body. He flipped the bag upside down as Phineas thrashed, trying to get out. Ferb quickly tied a knot around the bag's open end, trapping his step brother inside.

"Let me out of here!" Phineas yelled. He hadn't seen Ferb or Buford and thought he was being legitimately kidnapped.

Ferb put a finger to his lips, reminding Buford not to speak. The bully nodded and picked up the still-struggling Phineas in his brutish arms and carefully carried him down the stairs.

Meanwhile, Ferb walked down the hallway to Phineas's bedroom and entered. He opened a dresser and pulled out one of Phineas's folded orange-and-white striped shirts. When he had shut the drawer and left the room, he removed the walky-talky from his pocket.

* * *

_"Done,"_ Candace and Baljeet heard Ferb say via the small radio Candace held in her hand.

"Let's go!" Candace whispered excitedly. They raced out from their hiding spot, behind the tree Perry had crashed into the day before, and ran up to Isabella's front door. Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro was at work and the door was locked. Fortunately, Candace had the spare key Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro had given to her mother for emergencies.

Candace placed the key in the lock cautiously, trying not to make a sound. She twisted the key as carefully as she could, trying not to let the deadbolt click as it slid against its backstop. She removed the key and nodded to Baljeet. She pushed the door open as slowly as she could, but the hinges still squeaked a little. She cringed and prayed that Isabella hadn't heard it.

Deciding not to risk making another sound, they left the door open and headed up the stairs. Like Ferb and Buford, Baljeet held a short length of rope and Candace an empty burlap potato sack. They had a much harder task than Ferb and Buford. The boys across the street knew exactly when they could ambush Phineas, but here they had to hope Isabella was asleep and get at least her head inside the bag before she woke up, lest she see them.

They reached the top of the stairs and positioned themselves to enter Isabella's bedroom, the door to which was closed, just as it had been when Candace left yesterday. Baljeet slowly opened the door a crack. Thankfully, just as they had hoped, Isabella was sound asleep on her bed. He pushed the door open all the way and he and Candace entered the room.

Isabella was lying on her side, dressed the same way she had been yesterday. The sheets had all been pushed down to her feet, as it was too hot to sleep under them.

Candace crept over to Isabella's bedside. She positioned the bag above Isabella's head and slid the bag down slowly. She gently lifted the sleeping figure's head and pulled the bag down further, covering Isabella's face.

Candace motioned for Baljeet to help her lift Isabella's body up. Baljeet moved slowly with nervousness, as if he was afraid touching Isabella would cause her to spontaneously combust. He gently lifted her back and Candace slid the bag further down, and then forced it past her legs.

"What the-?!" Isabella suddenly exclaimed as the rough bag scraped against her legs.

"Uh-oh," Baljeet muttered as he quickly tied the rope around the opening of the bag. Isabella kicked up and caught Baljeet on the chin, knocking him backwards.

Candace ignored Baljeet's injury for the time being and did her best to carry the struggling potato sack from the room. She put Isabella down on the floor in the hallway and returned to Isabella's bedroom, closing the door partially behind her.

Baljeet sat on the floor, rubbing his chin gingerly. "Are you okay?" Candace whispered.

"Se kickd mi i' thi jw!" Baljeet moaned.

"Well, come on!" Candace urged. "I'm gonna carry her down to the car. Grab one of her pink dresses."

"Waait, wa?"

"You heard me," Candace whispered, and she left the room.

Baljeet stood, still holding his injured jaw. He turned around 180 degrees to face Isabella's bureau behind him. He pulled open the top drawer and quickly slammed it shut when he found a few dozen panties staring back at him.

Across the room was a much taller chest of drawers and he decided that was a more likely place for dresses. A quick check yielded everything but what he was searching for.

_Oh, the closet. Duh._ He pulled one of Isabella's standard pink dresses from a hanger and ran out of the room, feeling uncomfortable.

* * *

"Why are we doing this again?" Irving asked.

"We don't want them to be able to see what we give them," Steve answered. "If they do, it'll ruin the whole plan."

Irving thought about the plan for a moment and adjusted his thick glasses. "Yeah, okay, I guess you're right."

There were exactly two closets in Steve's garage. One was in Steve's apartment, the other was in the shop at the far end by the English Wheel. Steve and Irving had emptied both and taken the doors off the hinges. They screwed blocks of wood to the bottom of the doors to block out any light that could get in through the bottom. They had already finished the one in the shop, now they were finishing up the one in the apartment.

Steve lifted the door and positioned it back on the hinges and Irving slid the pins through.

"Alright," said Steve, "That's done. I have just enough time to spray the last layer of clear-coat before it's time to carry out the crux of the plan."

"Okay," Irving said. "I'll go see how Jeremy is doing."

They split up, Steve heading out the back door to the auxiliary building used as the paint shop and Irving to the main garage.

The Steve's Mustang had been moved into the far garage bay and turned sideways in the large space, the front bumper pulled up as close as possible to the car lift in the central bay. Steve's old F-150 had been positioned in the same way in the closest garage stall, but with the truck bed adjacent to the lift. The tailgate was down.

In the bed of the truck, Jeremy's drummer, who's name Irving could not remember, was setting up his drums, facing the empty space at the front of the shop. Coltrane, Jeremy's bassist, was on the roof of the Mustang, fiddling with the connectors on his guitar. He was not wearing shoes as per Steve's request to avoid scratching the roof. Jeremy was standing just behind the car lift, tuning his guitar.

Irving walked over to Jeremy.

"Hey J-Man!" Irving said good-naturedly.

"Hey…uh…I-Man?" Jeremy replied.

"So how's it going?" Irving asked.

"Good. We're all set up. Now we're just waiting for our captives and the rest of the stage."

Irving felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped in surprise, for he had not heard anyone walk up behind him.

"Oh, Ferb, it's you!" he said, exhaling with relief.

"Hey, Ferb," Jeremy called from eight feet away.

Ferb simply waved to Jeremy, and then held up something to Irving.

"What's this?" Irving asked, taking the item from Ferb. It looked like a pair of tinted goggles that were large enough to fit over Irving's glasses but narrowed to very small view ports on the front. There was also a structure that hung down below the eye piece that looked like it fit over the mouth.

"Night-vision goggles and voice changing device," Ferb told him.

Irving stretched the strap over his head. "I can't see anything," he told Ferb. He felt a button on the side. "Oh, they aren't turned on."

"Wait, don't-" Ferb tried to warn him, but it was too late.

Night vision goggles work but exponentially amplifying existing light to allow the wearer to see in total darkness. Which means, turning them on in broad daylight will amplify sunlight 400 times.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Irving screamed as he was blinded by the goggles. The voice that came out was not his, made deeper and more gravely by the voice changer.

Ferb quickly reached up and switched off the night vision goggles. He pulled them from Irving's face. Jeremy, having been startled by Irving's scream, stopped what he was doing and looked at Irving with concern.

"Are you okay, Irving?" he asked.

Irving finally opened his eyes. "Ow." He stared at Ferb and blinked a few times. "I'm seeing spots," he said. "They're completely blocking my vision. I can barely see you."

Ferb guided him over to the light-proofed closet and pushed him inside, shutting the door. He would let him out in a few minutes, when Irving could see again.

Steve walked in a moment later. "Hey, Jeremy, could I borrow your car since my truck has become a stage? I want to go pick up the Riv's engine so we can finish it as soon as Buford gets back."

"Sure," Jeremy said, digging the keys out of his pocket. "But how are you planning on fitting that big engine in the trunk of my little Ford Focus?"

"I don't," Steve said. "I have a little trailer I'll put in on. It'll take two minutes to put the hitch on your car and then I'll take it off when I get back."

"Okay," Jeremy said tossing Steve his keys. "If you think my car has enough power to pull that engine."

"Jeremy," Steve said raising a hand, telling the musician not to worry. "It's a Ford. It won't let me down."

With that, Steve left. Jeremy turned to Ferb, who had, at this point returned from the closet.

"How does it seem possible that Steve and Buford were able to finish restoring that car in two days?"

Ferb shrugged.

"I mean, you and Phineas build incredible stuff in less than a day all the time, but…it took Steve two _years_ to finish his Mustang and only two _days_ to refurbish a Buick Riviera?" Jeremy continued.

"Well," said Ferb, "I theorize that Phineas and I are capable of building our contraptions so fast because we are affected by some sort of anomaly where time does not run the same for us as it does for the rest of the world."

Jeremy looked confused. "Huh?"

"We build at the same speed as any old people, but we are not held by the same bonds to time, allowing it to appear as though it only took a few hours, and feel like it only took a few hours, even though it took much longer."

Jeremy's confused look did not change. "So…how does that apply to Steve."

Ferb shrugged again. "Perhaps the same time effects affects him by association with us."

Jeremy contemplated this for a moment. Then he said. "I guess. And I must say, I think that's the first time I ever heard 'effects' and 'affects' used in the same sentence."

Ferb took a bow.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Isabella could feel the rope being untied from around her feet, but could not see anything. True, she was still inside a burlap sack, but light had seeped through and she could see her own body. But now, no light penetrated her trap.

When she felt the rope pulled away, she heard a door slam. She pulled the bag over her head and saw…nothing. It was so pitch dark, she couldn't even see her hand in front of her face.

"Hello?" she called, hoping to get a response from someone, even if it was her captor. "Hello?"

When she got no response, she took a few steps backward, almost tripping over the discarded potato sack on the floor, and crashed into the wall. She sank down to the floor, using the wall to guide her. She wrapped her arms around her knees and started to cry.

* * *

"Oh, good, you guys are back," Steve said upon his return. "Everything go well?"

"Perfectly," Candace assured him.

"No ib did't!" Baljeet protested, still holding his jaw gingerly in his hand. "Ibabelba kicd m' i' th' fade."

Steve looked at him, grimacing at the sight of Baljeet's slightly out-of-wack face. "You should probably get that looked at." Then, turning to Buford, "I got the engine and the clear-coat should be just about dry. Lets go drop the engine in and hook it all up so we can roll it back out here to finish the stage."

"Awesome!" Buford said. The two left via the back door, Steve tossing Jeremy's keys back to the guitarist, who was sitting on an amp in the corner, still fiddling with his guitar.

Irving and Ferb rejoined Candace and Baljeet in the main garage, both of them wearing their night vision goggles around their neck. "Mission: Phase 1 is accomplished!" Irving said proudly.

"Excellent," Candace said. "Now we'll wait fifteen minutes or so before we begin phase 2. After that, phase 3 is up to Phineas and Isabella."

Everyone looked down at their shoes. "Yeah," they all sighed. That really would be the deciding factor.

"I hode dey do't ged mab a' us fo' oin' 'is," Baljeet said painfully.

"Yeah," was the general response.

* * *

The door creaked open and Phineas turned from the back wall and looked at the open rectangle before him. He still could not see his own body, nor could he see anything more than a silhouette of the person in the doorway, but he welcomed the sight of anything but blackness.

"Phineas," the figure spoke, its voice deep and gravelly. "I _am_ your father!"

Phineas stared confused. Through his night vision goggles, Irving could clearly see that Phineas was quite worried.

"Just kidding," Irving said slowly. "Now," he tossed something to Phineas. "Put this on. Once you have done so, I'll let you out." And he closed the door, once again plunging Phineas into darkness.

Phineas had no idea what his captor had tossed him. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers. It was definitely a shirt of some sort, but of course, he could not see to tell what it was.

So, after some careful consideration, he pulled off his shirt and put on…whatever it was.

* * *

Isabella had received an equally confusing visit from the evil looking figure (who was really Irving) about twenty minutes ago. And, just as Phineas had, she had also received some various article of clothing.

Unlike Phineas, however, Isabella was not exactly open to the idea of changing her clothes in a pitch dark closet located who-knows-where?

There was a knock at the door. "May I enter?" asked the mystery person.

"I'm not really sure how to respond to that," Isabella called through the door. "I don't really have any desire to interact with you and how am I supposed to know what you're going to do to me?"

There was a pause as Irving contemplated how to respond to Isabella's very logical question.

"Okay, let me rephrase that," Irving said. "Are you decent?"

"Yes," Isabella replied.

"Did you change into that shirt?" Irving asked, the voice changer still making his voice deep.

"No."

"Well, you can't come out until you put it on," Irving said as convincingly as he could. "I'll come back in another twenty minutes and see if you've come to your senses." And he left.

Isabella felt the cotton material between her fingers again. Whatever it was, it felt somehow familiar, but she couldn't place it, the sheer terror she still felt clouding her memory.

She sighed, deciding that, having been kidnapped, much worse things could be happening to her than being forced to change her top in a pitch dark closet. For one thing, she could be forced to change her shirt while her captor watched. And, in this particular instance, that alternate reality would have been much worse since she was not wearing anything under her t-shirt. Had she known she was going to be kidnapped…well, obviously she would have prepared to defend herself…but she would have at least worn a bra.

And, with that bit of logic crossing her mind, she pulled off her own t-shirt and replaced it with the one Irving had given her as quickly as she possibly could.

* * *

Irving made his way back into the garage followed silently by Candace, Ferb, and Baljeet, all of whom had been standing just out sight, but within earshot while Irving addressed their captives. In the time they had been waiting, Ferb had assembled two more sets of night vision goggles for them. Originally, Ferb only needed a pair to assist Irving in releasing Phineas and Isabella from their potato sacks into their pitch dark enclosures. (The goggles were necessary because the areas outside the two closets had been made light-free as well to ensure that Phineas and Isabella could not figure out where they were by sight or be able to see who was talking to them. It was quite difficult to darken the storage closet on the far side of the garage being as the garage itself need to remain lit, so an impromptu curtain had been raised into a canopy around the door.) Now, Candace and Baljeet could listen to, and see the captor-to-prisoner exchanges, mostly out of curiosity.

They removed their goggles as they returned to the main garage.

"I guess that went well," Irving told his friends.

"I guess," Candace said. "But we need Isabella to change her shirt. If she, doesn't then the whole plan is pointless."

Buford suddenly walked right between the small group. They hadn't even heard him enter through the back door. "'Scuse me, comin' through," he said, pushing his way between them.

"Ey!" Baljeet protested as he stumbled backwards from Buford's shove.

"No time for pleasantries, runt. The driveway is on a slant and Steve can't hold it forever," Buford explained as he rapidly walked over to the center overhead garage door, the one that was in line with the car lift.

"Huh?" Candace asked. "What does that mean?"

Buford didn't respond. He reached for the handle and pulled the door up, revealing a car completely covered by a white sheet, it's rear bumper pointed into the garage. Steve stood behind the car, which was really the front of the car, but he and Buford had been rolling the car backwards, so in this case the front was the back. The car's transmission was in neutral so it could be rolled without starting the engine. While Buford was running around to open the garage door, Steve was putting all his weight against the front bumper of the car, keeping it from rolling down the inclined driveway.

Buford quickly joined Steve behind the cloaked Buick and they struggled to push the car back into the garage. Ferb ran to help as the two others struggled to get the car rolling again on the inclined pavement. Finally, the car reached the level concrete of the garage floor and the car rolled more easily. They pushed the car onto the lift, centered between Steve's F-150 and Steve's Mustang.

"Thanks Ferb," Steve said as he caught his breath.

Ferb waved it off and all three returned to the others, who had also been joined by Jeremy.

"Hey," Jeremy said, pointing at car still hidden by the sheet, "That's the 'Riv', all finished?"

"Yup," Steve said. "We will revel it _after_ we fix Phineas and Isabella's friendship. Think you can stand on it with that sheet still covering it? The sheet's probably gonna want to slide off."

"I'll be fine," Jeremy assured him. Then, turning to Candace, "Speaking of which, how much longer do you think it'll be before we can do this?"

"Soon," Candace said, checking her watch. "In another five minutes, Irving is going to see if Isabella has changed her shirt, and if she has, you and your band need to be in position already. Ferb will control the lights."

"Okay," Jeremy said, some excitement apparent in his voice. "Let's do this thing!"


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own _You Look Good In My Shirt _It belongs to Keith Urban.**

Chapter 4

"Have you changed into the shirt I gave you?" Irving asked.

"Yes," Isabella said, nervousness, sadness, complete terror and anger all present in her voice.

"Okay," Irving asked through the voice changer. "I'm gonna leave the door unlocked. Come out any time you want."

Isabella heard a click as Irving unlocked the door. She waited until she heard his footsteps fade away, and then placed a cautious hand on the door knob.

* * *

"Ready to come out?" Irving asked Phineas through the door.

"Yes, please," Phineas replied.

"Okay, door's unlocked. Come out when you're ready."

Irving quickly retreated to the middle of the pitch dark garage and laid on his stomach under the back of the recently finished Buick Riviera, which had not yet been revealed, not that Irving could see anything but the underside. With his night vision goggles still on, it was his job to watch the open front area of the shop for the presence of both Phineas and Isabella. Neither of them would be able to see anything since they would be looking through only their eyes with nothing to aid them in the dark, so when they happened to both wander into the area he could see, he was to tap his knuckles twice against the back bumper. This would signal Jeremy, who couldn't see anything either, that it was time to begin.

Irving heard the closet door open in the corner of the shop, which meant Phineas was coming out. Now, Irving could only hope that Phineas and Isabella would reach the middle of the floor in front of him at relatively the same time. If they didn't, all the work they had put into executing this plan would be for naught.

Irving could see Isabella just creeping into the garage from the open door which led into Steve's apartment. He could just see Phineas edging in past the curtain on the opposite end of the garage.

He lightly rapped on the bumper twice. It was barely audible, but the garage was so quiet that Jeremy heard it.

Jeremy made sure he wasn't going to fall off the sheet covered roof of the Riviera, took a deep breath, and strummed a chord.

* * *

Isabella pushed open the closet door slowly, afraid that something would attack her on the other side, but nothing happened. It was so pitch black she could see nothing, so she placed both hands on the door frame and guided herself out. Guiding herself with her hands on the wall, she turned a corner, walked two steps, and her hands touched a perpendicular wall. She thought she had reached a dead end until she felt across the adjacent wall and found wood nailed to the sheetrock that could only be the casing around a door. The door was open, and she carefully walked through the doorway.

She tried to find the wall again to guide her, but she could not find it. She had no way of knowing that the opposite garage walls were each twenty feet away. The darkness was disorienting her senses, including her sense of distance. So, she walked straight, feeling the empty air in front of her for obstacles with outstretched arms.

After only a few steps, she froze suddenly as she heard…music. It was loud, too, and close. Just a dozen or so notes, which stopped as suddenly as it started.

What Isabella did not realize was that Jeremy, standing on top of the sheathed Buick Riviera, had just played the opening of a Keith Urban song. The pause that followed was longer than that in the recorded tune. This had been planned by Candace and Steve for effect.

The silence following the loud guitar riff was deafening. Isabella was scared to move.

Finally, there were three drum beats and Jeremy and Coltrane began to play the song's melody. This was Ferb's cue to turn on the lights.

Ferb flicked a switch on a hand-held control panel that ignited the impromptu "stage," which was really just two cars and a truck, with light. The lights were directed toward Jeremy and his band and away from Isabella to prolong the darkness in the shop. The drums had been set up in the bed of Steve's pickup truck and Coltrane played his base standing on the roof of the Mustang. The music did not sound exactly like Keith Urban's own because there were far less instruments being played, but the tune was discernable.

Isabella stared in disbelief at the man she recognized, playing his guitar as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Jeremy winked at her, and Isabella considered calling out to him, but Jeremy began to sing.

_"When you walked up behind me and covered my eyes, and whispered in my ear 'guess who?…I rattled off names like I really didn't know, but all along I knew it was you."_

Ferb flicked on the rest of the lights, filing the garage with a soft, white fluorescent glow. As Jeremy continued to sing, Isabella noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

_"And the longer we talked, the more we laughed, and wondered why we didn't last…" _

Isabella noticed Jeremy look right at her mid lyric, and then turn his head and nod toward the opposite end of the shop, suggesting that there was something far more interesting that him that she should focus on.

_"It had been a long time but later last night-"_

Isabella finally managed to tear her eyes away from Jeremy and turned to see what he was looking at.

_"Baby, we caught up real fast."_

Phineas was staring back at her.

He stood thirty feet away, his eyes locked on her's. And, she noticed, he was wearing one of her pink dresses.

_"And maybe it's a little too early, to know if this is gonna work…"_

Phineas was having trouble comprehending what was going on. But for some reason, the question that plagued his mind at the moment was-

_"All I know is you're sure lookin'…"_

_Why the heck is Isabella wearing my shirt?_

_"Good in my shirt."_

Jeremy and his band continued playing as Isabella and Phineas started slowly walking toward each other.

_"Well, now, I'm not saying that we solved overnight, everyway that we went wrong…"_

They stopped just a few feet apart, still staring at each other.

_"Oh, but what I'm seeing I'd sure love seeing, every morning from now on._"

"Phineas?" Isabella asked at a decibel just audible over the music.

_"And maybe it's a little too early, to know if this is gonna work…"_

"Isabella?"

_"All I know is you're sure lookin', good in my shirt."_

The two teenagers suddenly became aware of other people in the room. They turned and looked around as Ferb, Candace, Baljeet, Irving and Steve emerged from their hiding places. And Phineas and Isabella suddenly became completely aware of what had just happened, and what was occurring now.

As Jeremy and his band played the bridge, Isabella and Phineas turned back to each other and stepped even closer together.

"Phineas," Isabella started, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, Isabella," Phineas returned, tears welling up in both party's eyes.

"This is all my fault," Isabella said, covering her eyes with her hands.

"No, it's not," Phineas said, "It's my fa-"

_"And maybe it's a little too early, to know if this is gonna work."_

Phineas and Isabella both knew what that line meant. They had pretty much ended their friendship two days ago. Who knew if they would be able to remain friends, especially with Isabella's crush out in the open.

_"All I know is you're sure lookin', good in my shirt."_

One thing was certain, though. They both looked absolutely ridiculous wearing each other's clothes.

_"And maybe it's a little too early to know if this is gonna work…"_

No further words were necessary between the two. They each knew exactly what the other wanted to say.

_"All I know is you're sure lookin', good in my shirt…You look good in my shirt."_

Phineas looked into Isabella's eyes and smiled. "You do look good in my shirt."

She giggled, tears still leaking out of the corners of her eyes. "No, I don't," she said with a smile.

"I know," Phineas said.

As Jeremy played out the song, Phineas and Isabella fell into each other's arms, embracing in a hug that was more meaningful to them then any invention they had ever built or any adventure they had ever embarked on, because they were friends again.

The other eight people in the room cheered. They had accomplished their mission.

Phineas and Isabella held onto each other until Jeremy, Coltrane and Y.A., the drummer, played their last notes. Then they finally pulled apart.

"Isabella," Phineas started, a regretful look on his face, "I'm sorry that I can't say I love you back, but you are my best friend. I don't want to rush into something that I don't know about and risk losing you as my friend."

Isabella's smile faded, but she understood.

Phineas continued, "These last two days without you have been torture. I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Phineas," Isabella returned.

"I just want to make sure I'm ready…that we're both ready…before we jump into anything."

"Yeah," Isabella sighed. "I guess you're right. I'm sorry I made such a big deal out of it. I guess I just got a little frustrated, is all."

They hugged again as their friends approached them. Upon their arrival, they pulled apart, Isabella a bit reluctantly.

"Thank you, guys," Isabella said.

"Really, not mad at us at all for kidnapping you?" Baljeet asked.

"No," Phineas said. "I will say, this seemed like an awful lot of trouble to go through. You couldn't have just put us in the same place and played us the song?"

"Well," Candace explained, "I don't really think it would have had the same affect as the two of you noticing each other on opposite sides of the room, and the dark…and I don't think we could have convinced you two to be anywhere near each other, anyway."

"It was all timing," Ferb said, paraphrasing for Candace.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Phineas said. He looked at Isabella and Isabella looked back. They smiled.

"Okay, you guys are good now?" Steve asked.

"Yeah…" Phineas said, questioningly.

"Good," Steve said, turning on his heel and pointing. "Then I invite you all over here to see the first car co-restored by Marcis and Van Stomm."

They all hurried over to the car parked on the lowered lift, still covered by the white sheet. Phineas took Isabella's hand and gave her a friendly smile. The girl blushed.

The six teens and four young adults surrounded the car. Steve and Buford each grabbed a corner of the sheet.

"Ready?" Steve asked Buford.

"Let's get on with it."

"Okay, then. On three: One…two…three!"

They jerked the sheet off. All stared at the car beneath.

The chrome glistened in the recently rigged up stage lights. The freshly dried paint under the protective clear-coating was a sort of tan color that was offered by Buick in 1971 called "Copper Mist." All of the glass had been replaced with acrylic, which is even clearer than glass.

"Wow!" They all exclaimed. Buford popped the hood and revealed the professionally rebuilt V-8. Everything was spotless and the car looked brand new.

"Here we go," Steve said, climbing into the driver's seat. "Let's hope it starts."

He pulled the key from his pocket and inserted it into the ignition. Everyone held their breath as Steve turned the key.

The starter spun, and in a split second, the engine turned over. Everyone clapped and gave small cheers. Steve stepped on the gas and revved the engine a few times before climbing out, leaving the engine running.

As everyone walked around the car and admired Steve and Buford's craftsmanship, Candace heard something at her feet.

"Ngrgrgrgrgrgrgr."

"Oh, there you are Perry." She bent down and scooped up the platypus.

"Hello?" a voice came from the front entrance, which used to be the waiting room before becoming part of Steve's apartment.

Steve turned to see who it was. A man with white hair and a white bushy mustache he had never seen before was poking his head into the garage.

"Can I help you, sir?" Steve asked the man, walking over to him.

"Yes, I believe you can," the man, who was actually Major Monogram, replied. Perry had told him through a series of elaborate hand gestures that there was a car for sale that could replace his totaled Cadillac. "I heard that you have a fully restored '71 Buick Riviera for sale."

"Yes, I do…but…how did you know that? I haven't even put the ad out yet."

Monogram thought quickly. "Uhh, I, uh, heard it from a friend who heard it from a co-worker who heard it from…look, never mind. May I see the car?" He asked, excitement hidden in his voice.

"Sure," Steve said, leading him over. "Just finished it today, an hour ago."

They reached the car and Monogram looked at the beautiful car. "Wow," he said. "Agen- I mean, my friend was right. The restoration was beautifully done."

He looked over every aspect of the car for a good ten minutes, everyone in the room watching him.

"How much?" the major finally asked.

"Uh…" Steve wasn't really prepared for this question, but he decided to start a bit high and negotiate down. "How about nineteen thousand?"

Monogram, who was sitting in the driver's seat, looked around the interior of the car, thinking.

"Sold."

Everyone looked at Steve and Buford. They looked like they were going to go into shock.

The two mechanics looked at each other. Then they jumped in slow motion and freeze-frame high-fived. Then the screen faded to black.


	5. Epilouge

Epilogue

It had been two days since the Riviera had been sold. Steve, for one, was exhausted for some reason, especially after all the work returning his shop to normal following the so called "concert."

This morning, Steve was look forward to sleeping in. That plan was quickly nixed by a rather loud pounding at the door.

Steve groaned and jammed his sunglasses onto his face. He pulled himself out of bed, turned on the lights, pulled on the big t-shirt and shorts from the floor where he had discarded them the night before, forgot his Ford Racing hat and stumbled to the door as the pounding continued.

Through the plate-glass door, Steve saw Buford and Baljeet. He unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"Good morning, Steve," Baljeet said, his injuries from Isabella's kick to the jaw in a bandage.

"'Sup?" was all Buford said.

"Not to be rude," Steve said sleepily, "But what do you guys want? I was still asleep."

"No time for sleeping, dude," Buford said excitedly. "Check it out!" he pointed. On the wide driveway that spanned in front of all three garage doors sat a 1972 El Camino SS. It was a rusty color and the doors sagged a bit, but it did not appear to be relatively good condition.

"You found an El Camino?" Steve asked, perking up slightly.

"You bet I did. It was in Tennessee, so I made shrimpy here go with me to get it so he could navigate."

Steve did not need anymore information. "Well, then, Buford, Baljeet, I know what we're gonna do today!"

"Dude, don't use Phineas's line," Buford said.

"Actually, I'm gonna go see what Phineas and Ferb are doing today," Baljeet said as he began walking away. "Have fun with your car…truck…thing."

* * *

Baljeet entered the Flynn-Fletcher backyard, finding the brothers, Isabella, and Candace, who now participated in her brother's endeavors when she wasn't hanging out with Jeremy. Jeremy was working today, thus, she was here.

"Ferb, I know what we're gonna do today! Oh, hey Baljeet," Phineas said.

"Okay, catch me up. What did I miss?" the Indian boy asked.

"We're gonna go to the North Pole and dig a tunnel all the way to the South Pole so we jump through it," Phineas explained. "Gravity will pull us to the core, and then slow us down so that when we reach the other end, we should be able to just step out on to the ground."

Candace asked "Why do we have to go to the North pole? Can't we just dig the hole in the backyard?"

"Well, if we did, the Coriolis effect would cause us to hit the side of the hole we dig," Ferb explained.

That was good enough for Candace, and Ferb pressed a button on a remote he removed from his pocket. Everyone in the backyard was instantly teleported to the north pole.

As they embarked on their adventure, Isabella actually found herself more comfortable around Phineas. It was almost as if the simple fact that Phineas knew she loved him made interacting with him less nerve racking. And Phineas, he went on like nothing had happened at all between them.

And for the entire day, thought no one could tell under the various cold, hot or pressure protective clothing they wore, Phineas and Isabella wore each other's shirts all day.

**Hello everyone! For those of you who are enjoying my series, some information:**

**This story and the two that precede it are part of a story arc within the series. The next story, which shall be entitled, "Baljeet and the Superchicken," and the two stories after that, will stand alone, though will still need to be read in the order of the numbers in each title.**

**I hope you are enjoying reading my stories as much as I am enjoying writing them, and I would really appreciate it if you would comment on this and all my stories. **

**Until next time,**

**EDD17SP **


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